The UK’s top Brexit Minister David Davis has spent the last 15 months negotiating a glass of water, it can be revealed today.

Initially offered a coffee, Davis took exception to EU negotiator Michel Barnier’s welcome at an introductory meeting. The Secretary of State was then offered a wide range of waters but refused to be rushed into making a decision.

Over a year on from the UK’s decision the leave the EU, little headway has been made but the Minister has defended his approach.

“There has been a lot of discussion over the type of water we we want. Hard water or soft water? Still or sparkling? There are so many choices. I don’t plan to actually drink the water until March 2019.”

Davis also claimed that he would refuse any glass of water that did not stem the flow of water into the UK.

The Secretary of State has been criticised by political opponents for failing to make sufficient progress. The Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn called for the government to secure “a fair glass of water” as soon as possible.

Downing Street has defended the negotiations. In a speech in Buxton later today the Prime Minister is expected to say “No glass of water is better than a bad glass of water.”

Pressed by journalists, Davis refused to be drawn on his negotiating strategy and instead decided to badmouth the EU.

“The EU has made negotiating this glass of water all but impossible” said the visibly thirsty Minister.

Asked when he would be starting the Brexit negotiations, Davis looked confused before promising more money for the NHS.

It’s been just 13 months since the British people voted to leave the European Union. Since then my utterly awful Metropolitan Elite (™) friends have been on a warpath. A loose coalition of Champagne Socialists, Lidl Prosecco Liberals and Craft Beer Corbynistas have conspired to inform and reiterate to me just how wrong the British electorate were and how angry they are. (I am of course, for the purposes of this blogpost, above the fray and have never slighted anyone in my life.)

Brexit negotiations have started and nobody thinks they’re going well. We’ve opened Schrodingers’ box and found a cat that is not quite dead but has a grim case of scabies and quite justifiably hates us for putting it through this ordeal. The Tories want to keep this cat, even if it bites us or ruins the economy. Labour want to nurse it in a way that appeals to their feline-friendly working class voters and their more murderous metropolitan supporters. The RSPCA are nowhere to be seen, presumably because they have more important things to do than deal with laborious metaphors.

Since the referendum, I have had about three conversations a week about how badly Brexit is going. I’ve had 152 conversations that have all been the same. It’s like Groundhog Day, if Groundhog Day had been a film about a man discussing the intricacies of EU regulations and the technicalities of the customs union. It’s like Groundhog Day if Groundhog Day had been shit.

I’ve become so Bored of Brexit (incidentally the title of my upcoming book which details my disinterest over 452 pages) that I’ve devised a way to help all my friends get over it. So take heed Botanical Gin Bolsheviks! Here’s what you need to do …

Get excited for the London property market crash!

Sure, this housing crisis could be solved relatively easily with rent controls and investment in social housing but that’d make us all card-carrying Communists and we’d suddenly find ourselves living in an authoritarian dystopia. Brexit may be our only hope. When the economy inevitably crumbles, providing you still have a job, it could well be your time to get on the ladder! (But do be careful as it’ll probably be a ladder made in Britain.)

Take solace from the fact the hard Brexiteers are just as mad as you

Women still get maternity leave. Hanging continues to be illegal. Shillings have not been reintroduced. There’s no doubt the hard Brexiteers are upset. The mewling headlines of the Sun, the Mail and the Express (who have complained of ‘traitors’ and a ‘foreign elite’ seeking to ‘subvert’ Brexit) read like deranged a Twitter feed jointly run by Nigel Farage and Joseph Goebbels. We should of course, denounce the bigoted screed these second-rate publications spew but it’s also good to know we’re not alone – they’re just as unhappy as we are.

Talk to a ‘Lexiteer’

These are people on the political left who will tell you that Britain leaving the EU, a buttress against a brutal Conservative ideology of austerity and social darwinism, was definitely a good thing for workers’ rights and minorities in Britain. Talking to any of them for five minutes will ensure you never want to talk about Brexit again.

Flee

Take a trip to continental Europe or go backpacking anywhere in the world. Rest assured that nobody will bring up Brexit. You’d never mention Donald Trump to a clearly liberal American would you? No. And by the same logic, nobody will mention Brexit to you. A foolproof plan.

Rigorously following this advice will help us all move forward as we enter another 13 months of Brexit bargaining. And although by enacting the above you won’t actually achieve anything tangible, that will put you pretty much on a par with David Davis and Boris Johnson.

As something of a political geek and a total loser, I’m often attempting to befriend journalists and insiders who might treat me to some governmental gossip. Over a few drinks, they’ll humour me with things they’ve learned that, for one reason or another, haven’t made it into the public domain. I find this kind of tittle-tattle incredibly stimulating and for that reason I am no longer welcome in several London pubs.

Some of these Westminster whispers (also the title of my Boris Johnson erotic fanfiction) are totally believable – the suggestion that Michael Gove has been largely absent from this election because he has been returned to the wood elves comes to mind – whereas others are totally ludicrous – the rumour that Jeremy Corbyn has bought a third suit smacks of fantasy.

Last night, after studying his Twitter and Facebook feeds to monitor his movements, I randomly bumped into a young Guardian columnist at an Islington pub. The writer and activist, who I shall henceforth anonymise said something to me that simply didn’t add up. ‘I think Theresa May really wants to win this thing’ Jones Owen told me.

I was poised to dismiss Jones’ suggestion as yet another craft beer Corbynista conspiracy but suddenly he did something very strange. Jones scanned the pub before surreptitiously opening his messenger bag. ‘Look’, he said and passed to me a binder labelled Theresa May’s Diary. I was shocked.

‘How did you …?’ But when I looked up he was gone. Vanished. ‘How odd’, I thought. Then I noticed he was actually just leaving, having returned his empty Punk IPA bottle to the bar.

On his way out, Jones gave me a look which seemed to say, ‘Please selectively edit and publish extracts of this document. I know your largely dormant blog will provide a better platform for this explosive material than the Guardian ever could.’

It is a request I now intend to honour.

—

18th May – Conservative Manifesto Launch: A total success

This was my opportunity to bring my brand to the people and it couldn’t have gone better. For years, my party has been accused of pandering to over 60s at the expense of the young. I am the woman who has ended that. By introducing a death tax (the papers seem to have gone with ‘dementia tax’ but in a way that’s even better) I’ve proven that I’m not only mercilessly tough on the young but also on the old. The Iron Lady mark 2! Giant majority, here I come.

19th May – Strong and stable wins the race

I’ve come under a lot of criticism for my dementia tax. The country will soon see that clawing extra money from the deceased is a far fairer way to fund social care than a small increase in corporation tax. Those suggesting I row back will be ignored. The lady is not for turning!

22nd May

I have decided a partial U-turn on my social care policy is the best course of action.

31st May – Leaders’ Debate: A superhuman performance

People have started to doubt whether I’m strong or stable enough to deliver the Brexit that Britain needs. This is worrying. I am at my strongest when calling for the total withdrawal from the European single market that so many British exporters are crying out for. Unable to win them over with this strength, I have decided that at tonight’s leaders’ debate, I will show off a new power. Invisibility. I will be omnipresent (and constantly talked about) without actually appearing. A foolproof plan!

1st June – Time to bring Boris back?

The public don’t really seem to be getting my brand. I’m a responsible Conservative who won’t be drawn on figures. I’m a visionary that won’t answer questions. I am strong and stable but also highly amenable to pressure from my own party, the right-wing press and just about everyone else. What is is about this that they are struggling with? Jeremy Corbyn is consistently promising them everything and I am promising NOTHING. What’s not to like?!

—

Back in the pub, I stared at the diary. It was true, Theresa May really did want to win this election.

With a date like that, my recovery is not something I will be taking lightly. I plan to take to my bed for several weeks, summoning courtiers like a sickly medieval prince. They will bring news from the outside world and hummus from Waitrose.

Given that my hernia’s end is now in sight, I thought I might try to provide some tips for those hoping to survive a similar experience …

1) Don’t use it to flirt

Contrary to popular believe, hernias are not an aphrodisiac. You may think the wire mesh that will eventually hold your insides in place is an interesting topic but it is not a sexy one. If the subject happens to arise and a potential partner takes an unusual interest in touching it, don’t get involved. I spent a long evening arguing with a new girlfriend at a motorway services before I finally crying out “Is it me you’re in love with? Or is it my intestines?!” We had some fun but I left in tears.

2) Use it to flirt

‘I’m so sorry, I’ve got a hernia. Would you mind carrying my suitcase up those stairs?’ is a great opener. It weeds out weaker and more selfish potential mates whilst providing an interesting talking point. Try following up with: ‘Is it hot in here or am I being strangled by my insides?’ before asking them to call an ambulance.

3) Treat it like a pet

When you’re first diagnosed with a hernia it can seem like a real chore. You’re not allowed to run or swim and are just one challenging sexual position away from hospitalisation. That’s why it’s so important that you learn to love it. Draw a face on your hernia and you’ll never been short of company. Give it a personality, a favourite TV show and of course a name. Mine is called David Cameron, for tax purposes.

Follow this guide and you’ll be on the road to recovery in no time. If you don’t have a hernia and this post has made you feel left out, fear not. I will be auctioning mine after the operation. All proceeds will go to Waitrose.

Privacy/cookies notice: My site uses cookies and analytical services to collect data on how you’re using the it, to remarket and ultimately provide you with a better experience. If you keep using it, I'll assume you're OK with that.OK